Red On Black
by Ima Super Mute Ant
Summary: What would happen if Gambit could charge animate objects as well as inanimate objects?
1. Cne: The untimly death of Andre Deluc

Authors note: This is what I think would happen if Remy could charge animate objects. I figure this would be how he found out about his powers. R&R please.  
  
Disclaimer: Remy doesn't belong to me. Pierre doesn't either. Andre and John do, but I'm nice so you can take them if you feel like it. I never liked them anyway. Please don't sue me; unless you want pocket lint, then you can go ahead. I'd win though.  
  
"It's wort' at least twice dat and you know it!" Remy shouted, clasping the gold watch in his small hand and glaring up at Andre Deluc, hopefully for the last time. It had been almost a week since he had tried to pick the pocket of Jean-Luc LeBeau and gotten much more than he had ever hoped for.  
  
He had a nice place now, really nice, and he was even beginning to think of Jean-Luc and Henri and the others as his family. He had all but given up thieving completely. Thieving without adult permission anyway. He just had this one last piece, taken from an antique store about a week ago, and he would be done with his old life. Including the increasingly volatile fence standing before him, t'ank de lord! I'll never see dat ugly face again. De man's had it out f'r me since I was a pup, couldn't bully me like de others.  
  
Andre growled and shook his head. "No deal short-stuff, I ain't no fool. Dat watch be wort' no more'n de forty I offered for it and you ain't getting a penny more!" He scowled even more. Enacting the expression he called the 'done deal stare'. It had yet to fail to get even the most dangerous of his 'consigners' (as he called them) to agree to the price he asked, if not less.  
  
The Stare, however, failed to faze the ten-year-old standing in front of him. Remy stared back and narrowed his eyes a little in the way that he knew made Father Bentley at the church on Forth street rant about demons and throw holy water at him. Don't t'ink bout Bentley. Remy ordered himself, remembering the last time he had seen the Father, delivering a sermon on 'the monsters of the modern world' as he and a few churchgoers kicked him into unconsciousness.  
  
Andre tried to stare the boy down, gazing deeply into Remy eyes, but they were just so weird. Down right uncanny. Andre had never seen anything like them and at the moment he would be very happy to never see them again. Red- on-black bored into his face, making him feel as if the boy were reading his mind, or tryin' to blow me up. Never know what dos muties can do. Still he couldn't pay that much for the watch, not if he was going to pay that last poker game at Pierre's. Guild t'ief my âne. De man don't got de connections of a dead frog. He can sure play poker d'ough. Still, no way was he going to let this little amateur run off with his gambling money. Not when Pierre was so close to John Dupont the freelance assassin. Even if the boy was staring at him like he was plotting Andre's death.  
  
Andre looked away first and a triumphant smile flickered across Remy's face. "De sign at de store say ninety dollars! An' it was reduced!" Remy yelled, for emphasis of course, he knew that Andre was in the bag already. Remy's stare always did that to people. Although Andre was annoyingly immune to Remy's charm power.  
  
Remy was already celebrating his victory when something changed in the air. A shift in Andre's emotions, one of the many he had felt in the past few weeks. Like when the woman he was already calling Tante Mattie was angry at Jean-Luc for three whole days. And when Henri had been really happy after coming home with a bag of something he refused to show Remy. Remy never knew how or why it happened but it did, maybe it had something to do with his eyes, people were always interested in his eyes. What he did know was that Andre was very, very, very, angry all of a sudden.  
  
"I'll show you boy!" Andre growled. Reaching down and grabbing Remy by the wrist he began dragging him towards the back door and out into a courtyard, picking something up from a table by the door. Remy tried to pull away, panicking fast. Andre Deluc might not be a very smart man, but he was very big, and Remy knew for a fact that he collected guns. "You'n me are going to go have un petite chat wit' Monsieur Dupont neh?" After all Andre was very close to Pierre.  
  
"Non! Let go of moi!" Remy tried every trick he knew to get out of Andre's hold but the man was too big and his anger and (for some strange reason) fear were hurting Remy, he didn't know other people's emotions could hurt.  
  
"Or maybe we save de good man some trouble non?" Said Andre as he cocked a gun and pointed it at Remy's head.  
  
"Non!" Remy shouted again, running under the gun and grabbing the fence by his bare arm. Remy didn't know what he was going to do but he wasn't about to die at age ten, not when he had just found a family and a place to belong. Suddenly a wave of heat engulfed his hands, sending a warm tingling sensation up and down his arms. He opened his eyes when no shot rang out, having unconsciously closed them, to see that Andre was glowing, and brilliant red that covered every inch of him, cloths, skin, hair and all. Remy let out a scream and ran to the door.  
  
With his hand on the knob, Remy doubled over in a wash of pain and fear. Andre's emotions, which had been strong enough to hurt earlier, were now overpowering Remy's own. He was afraid, and startled, but most of all he was in pain. He was burning, no boiling alive, the red glow that had only made Remy feel a faint warmth was killing this man. Remy turned and ran, away from the glowing red light that still infested his hand and away from Andre Deluc, who lay in agony on the ground in his courtyard. He made it all the way to the living room before Andre exploded. 


	2. Two: ummm no title?

Remy sat on the edge of his bed and glared at his hands. They were normal now. There was no unearthly glow, no tingling. But he still wasn't touching anything just in case.  
Remy had known he was a mutant from the moment he was born. Some of his first memories were of people who hated him for his eyes. He remembered an old woman at the homeless shelter (the one time he had been to one) who had screamed when she saw him and thrown him out into the snow, right under the sign that said 'no one turned away'. He remembered when a nice shop owner gave him an entire bag of croissants and they'd been taken by a fellow street rat who said that "Muties shouldn' eat food dat can fill human bellies". Most of all he remembered Father Bentley, who had beaten Remy to a bloody pulp every chance he got for eight years.  
Yet every time someone had hit him, or taken things from him, or thrown him out of a store, he had been able to take it because he knew that he wasn't that bad. Everyone talked about how mutants were dangerous, and how they took from society, and how they would cheat, maim, and murder their way through the world until there were no good humans left. Remy had taken it because he wasn't dangerous. The only thing different about him was a pair of red pupils and black sclera. Now, he wasn't so sure.  
Non, I am sure. He thought, twitching his killer-hands. He was dangerous. They were right. The mean old lady at the shelter, the kid who took his food, the shopkeepers who wouldn't let him past their front door, and (most of all) Father Bentley. They were all right. He was a danger to the humans of the world and, even worse, he was a danger to Jean-Luc and his family. He didn't deserve the chance they had given him. He didn't deserve to be in the guild or to live in Jean-Luc's house. He didn't deserve to be called Jean-Luc's son.  
Tears poured down Remy's face and he buried his head in his pillow. I don' deserve this . . .  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Remy?" Jean-Luc LeBeau knocked on the door of his adopted son's room. "Remy? Es-tu là? [are you there?] Remy?" When Jean-Luc wasn't greeted by the string of curses like he usually was, he figured that his newly adopted son had left to visit Tante Mattie without telling anyone. Jean-Luc sighed, the boy had been on his own for ten years. It was imposable to expect him to always tell an adult when he wanted to go out. Still, he thought, I might as well check. . .  
Jean-Luc pushed the door open and walked into the amazingly clean room. No clothes, no glasses, bed made. Oh merde! Remy was gone. All his things were gone. Before Jean-Luc could process the information he was already in action. He ran down the stairs and into his office at top speed.  
"HENRI!! HENRI!!" Jean-Luc yelled at the top of his lungs just as his son came into the house.  
"Pere? What's going on?"  
"Remy's gone, I want you to go to Armand's and see if he's dere, or if de boy's contacted Lapin at all. I'm goin' to Mattie's. Call me if you find anyt'ing. Got it?"  
Jean-Luc rushed out the door before Henri could respond, hoping to god that Remy hadn't gotten into anything he couldn't handle.  
  
By the time he had reached Tante Mattie's house, Jean-Luc had already thought of at least thirty different ways for Remy to have gotten himself killed, maimed, or otherwise imperiled. It didn't matter that the boy had survived ten years on his own without getting himself killed. In fact, the way Jean-Luc saw it, he was probably due for something bad.  
By the time he had burst into Tante Mattie's house and given her the entire story (without taking a breath) Jean-Luc was on the verge of a heart attack.  
"He wouldn' of just left!" Jean-Luc shouted, "De boy was happy! You could see it every time he walked into de room. Why would he run off like dat?"  
"I don't know Jean-Luc." Mattie relied, "but we sure as hell ain't gonna let dat boy get away."  
I only hope, Jean-Luc thought as Mattie dragged him back out to his car, dat there's somet'ing fo' us to find.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Remy LeBeau crouched down in a dark ally in the heart of the New Orleans French Quarter. He stared at his glowing hands while fire engines rushed past him to the burning building only one block away. He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth as tears ran down his face. More people had been hurt because of him and the killer-hands. If only they'd just go away everything would be fine. . . those people would be fine.  
Remy pushed farther into the corner and tried to block out the sound of the fire engines and the panicked people. If only they'd just go away.  
  
A/N: Yah I know its short. Thanks to all the people who said the first chapter was gross, that's what I was aiming for ( Anyway, if you think I should keep going with this story, review! If you think I should quit while I'm ahead, review too! Ok then that's about everything ( Au revior! 


	3. Three: Remy meets a new friend

Yet Another Epic Author's note and ISMA goes insane from lack of English: First of all, I am SO sorry for not updating in so long. I recently (about September) moved to France for the school year and we didn't have internet for 3 FRIGGEN MONTHS!!!. I was nearly insane from fanfic deprivation. Not to mention that I don't speak a WORD of French yet I still have to go to French school. There are no books, comics, or movies in English and I DON"T EVEN HAVE A STUPID TV!!! I haven't seen X-men since I left the U.S. in SEPTEMBER!! So I'm currently going insane. Hopefully I will be updating more frequently from now on. Thanx to Joeysjellofreak for waking me up and reminding me that I have stuff going on. And to Risty because I love everything she's written. And also BJ2 (yessss I'm VERY HAPPY), xxFleurdelySxx, Anime05, and out-foxed. YOU GUYS ARE GREAT!!! Oh yeah, translations are at the end, just thouht you should know.  
  
"Hello Mr.LeBeau."  
  
Remy awoke with a jerk, hearing the cultured, almost British, voice above his head. "What de hell!" he shouted, scrambling back a few feet. He had been sure that the alley had been completely empty only a few minutes ago, and had dropped off to sleep in a sheltered corner. Now he was staring into a pair of glowing red eyes set in a paper white face.  
  
"What d'you want?" Remy demanded. He pushed himself farther from the man, quickly searching for an escape route.  
  
"To help," the man said, "Only to help."  
  
"Don' need help."  
  
The man chuckled, a deep ominous sound that scared Remy more than the glowing eyes or the red diamond tattoo on the man's forehead. "I believe you do." He nodded down at Remy's hands, which were glowing and pulsing with an eerie red light.  
  
"Screw you." Replied the child.  
  
"Come now, Remy," said the stranger, "I'm sure we can reach an agreement that is mutually acceptable. You have something that I want, and I can help you with that little. . . problem." The men looked down at Remy's hands and then back up to his face.  
  
"What you want, homme?" Remy asked. He was still afraid, but this man had offered him a chance to fix whatever was wrong with him and Remy needed that chance.  
  
"Merely a week of your time, a chance to draw some samples, perform some tests, perhaps a biopsy. And in return, I will remedy those uncontrolled powers of yours, for the time being.  
  
Remy didn't know what most of what the man had said but he got the idea. It seemed pretty agreeable to him except perhaps for that one word, biopsy. He didn't know what it meant.  
  
"'F Remy trusts you." He said a little more confidently, "You gonna get rid of de demon's fire in mes mains."  
  
"For the moment, yes. I cannot perform anything permanent, however, as you have not finished growing and anything drastic would severely damage your cerebral cortex."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
The man sighed, "It won't last forever." He said, slowly and clearly.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"What's your name, den?" asked Remy, looking shrewdly up at his new acquaintance.  
  
"You may call me Essex."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I can' believe he would just LEAVE like dat!" Jean-Luc sighed. He sat, slumped down in his chair in the main office of the New-Orleans Thieves Guild, a half-empty glass of brandy in his hand.  
  
"Je sais, Pere." Henri said, "Dere must 'a been sometin' wrong. . ."  
  
"Or maybe he realized how much trouble he was making and decided to take a load off everyone's shoulders." Said Theoren from the doorway. He was a guild member and one of those most against Remy's adoption,  
  
"Lay off Theo." Said Henri, glaring at his fellow guild member.  
  
"Non, I will no' 'lay off'! It was a mistake to adopt de boy and you know it! De rest of de Guild knows it! Now at least we can get back t' normal wit' out dat. . . _Mutant_ messin' t'ings up."  
  
"THEOREN LEBOULANGER!!" came Tante Mattie's screech from the hallway, "You don' be spreaden' anymore o' your poison boy or I'll be wackin' you till you wished you were DEAD!!"  
  
Theoren turned and glared at Mattie who was brandishing a frying pan like it was Excalibur.  
  
"Get OUT boy!!" she shouted. With one last look at Henri and Jean-Luc LeBeau, Theoren allowed himself to be ushered outside by the furious Mattie. "I'm sorry you had to listen to dat." She said quietly upon reentering the office.  
  
"Dats de attitude he been getting' since we adopted him." Said Jean- Luc, "No wonder he left." Henri nodded in agreement.  
  
"Oh come now!" sanpped Tante Mattie, " de boy was HAPPY here! Y' could see it in de chile's eyes every time y' looked at him. Nutt'in sort of disaster would make him leave. An' nutt'in sort of disaster will keep us from findin' him!"  
  
Jean-Luc just sighed and leaned his head against the table.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Remy sat on the cold, metal operation table and glanced around the cold, metal room. He had been there for approximately ten minutes and Essex had yet to say a word. They had not met any other people except for a big growly man who scared the wits out of Remy. Remy was already starting to hate it here.  
  
"Sooo. This is y', y'. . ."  
  
"This is my laboratory." Said the man sitting at the computer.  
  
"Yeah. That. It's uh, nice."  
  
"It was not designed to be aesthetically pleasing." Essex said, "I made it with efficiency in mind, not decorum.  
  
"Oh." Remy said. 'What de hell is decorum?' was what he thought.  
  
"I will take some blood and hair samples now, and then I will show you where you will be staying." Essex said.  
  
"D'acorrd."  
  
Remy sat as still as he could while Essex took clippings of his hair, a couple of samples of his blood, and even a piece of his fingernail. He glanced around the room as Essex carefully stored each sample in its own sterile, labeled, test tube.  
  
There were three other tables in the room like the one Remy was sitting on. They both had restraints for wrists, ankles, and one even had metal bars for the waist and neck. Various computer consoles were lined against the wall as well as some beakers of strange multicolored chemicals. Four tall, glass, tube-like things were situated in the middle of the room, running from floor to ceiling. Remy had no idea what those were for.  
  
There were only two doors leading out of the room. One, Remy knew, led out to the subway tunnel through which they had come. The other was the one that Essex was opening now. Behind it was a hall, lined with doors of the same cold, unforgivable metal, stretching down farther than Remy could see.  
  
"Wow. Dis's one big place you got." He told Essex, his voice bouncing of the walls even though he was whispering.  
  
Essex didn't respond, he simply opened a door and showed Remy into a room.  
  
"This will be yours for the time being." he said. "Do not leave this room until I have come for you." With that he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.  
  
"Well DAT was polite." Thought Remy as he plopped down on the single bed, which was the only piece of furniture in the room. Remy stared up at the ceiling, trying to find something to do. The ceiling was a flat brown, as well as the walls, and the floor, and the bed. There was a (brown) door leading off into what turned out to be a bathroom, which was, not surprisingly, brown tile.  
  
Remy sighed and crawled under the brown sheets, not even bothering to take off his clothes. He closed his eyes, trying everything he could not to think of Jean-Luc, Henri, or Tante Mattie.  
  
A sound filtered in through the wall. It sounded suspiciously like a scream.  
  
'Maybe dis wasn' such a good idea after all.' He though, just as he was falling asleep.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Theoren sat in a dingy bar in one of the worst places in New Orleans across from the living mountain know as Sabertooth.  
  
"Y' better not be playin' wit me homme." He said, "I wanna know where de boy is and I wanna know he ain' comin' back."  
  
"He's with an employer of mine." Sabertooth growled, "He ain't gonna be leaven' anytime soon either."  
  
"I want you to MAKE SURE he doesn't get out." Theoren said, "De boy's been messin' in my guild too much and I want him OUT." Sabertooth growled louder in annoyance but nodded in agreement anyway.  
  
"And y' make sure dat Jean-Luc don' hear anyt'ing about this!" Theoren continued, ignoring the fact that his feral companion was becoming increasingly irate.  
  
Sabertooth nodded again, even though he felt like ripping the cocky thief's throat out.  
  
'It be jus' my luck de boy decided to run away and save me de trouble of killin' him myself.' Theoren thought. It was just his luck, as well, that he liked to have drinks with one of New Orleans', no make that America's, most brutal murderers.  
  
"Fine den." He stood and started to leave.  
  
"Wait a minute, LeBoulanger." Said Sabertooth, grabbing the thief's arm and squeezing hard enough to make beads of sweat stand out on his brow. "I don't sell out Sinister for free." He held out his other hand to the thief, who laughed nervously and reached, into his pocket.  
  
"Mais oui." He said, pulling out a glimmering ruby the size of his fist. "Dis enough for y'? Dere be one ot'er when I see de boys body."  
  
Sabertooth fingered the jewel for a moment, gazing at its multifaceted surface. He laughed softly, loving the way the light bounced off the blood-red stone.  
  
"He's dead meat."  
  
TRANSLATIONS:  
  
Homme: man  
  
Mes mains: my hands  
  
Je sais, Pere: I know, father  
  
Mais oui: but yes, of course  
  
D'acorrd: all right  
  
Another Authors note: I don't know Theoren's last name. Actually I don't know ANYTHING about Theoren. I'm just using him for an angry guild member. His last name in the story is LeBoulanger, which is the same last name as a kid in my class. It means The Baker. Just a cute little fact. 


	4. An Annoying Author's Note

Hi everyone! I'm really sorry about the annoying authors note but I just wanted to say that TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! So you all have to give me reviews even if you've already read the previous chapter (  
  
MAKE ME FEEL BETTER!! I'M HOMESICK AND AGING. Ok so maybe 14 is all that old but you guys get the idea. Anyway, I'm working really hard on the next chapter and it might be up soon.  
  
-ISMA 


	5. Four: yessssss its chapter four

A/N: Thanks to those who were so nice as to Review. (Sorry, I'm too lazy to write you name) And Sorry to all those who were angry that I didn't post in ages. We had SEVERE technical difficulties. Now Read this and Review and I will be punctual, I promise.  
  
"Who's dat?" asked Remy, hearing a low growl in the other room. He was once again seated on a cold examination table. He had an IV inserted in his arm and Essex was in the process of taking his blood pressure. Remy had yet to be subjected to anything truly painful. Uncomfortable, sure, degrading, damn strait, but not painful. Forget that he had been left to his own devises for hours on end in the bland little room. And that he hadn't had a thing to eat other than crackers since he got there, four days ago. It's not like he was expecting regular meals.  
  
"An employee. Be quiet."  
  
Remy shut up. He didn't want to push it.  
  
Essex picked up a needle and inserted it in Remy's other arm. Remy hissed in pain, but didn't say a word. Silvery liquid was injected into his blood stream. He though it felt cold, kind of slippery.  
  
"Ewww, slippery veins." Thought Remy with a shudder. It was the least of the weird things that had been pumped into Remy's body recently and, 'sadly' thought Remy, none of him had given him that fun floatly feeling he had gotten from the whoknowswhat Bob Deekey had given him last Christmas.  
  
Essex pulled the needle from his arm and turned to the computer. Remy sat where he was. Essex typed. Remy sat. Essex typed. Remy sat. Essex typed. Remy sat and picked a scab on his knee. Essex typed. You get the picture.  
  
Remy coughed, Essex kept typing. Remy coughed again, Essex frowned. Remy hacked, Essex spun his chair around and glared.  
  
"Yes?" he said frostily, glaring at the boy kicking his legs against the sterile examination table.  
  
"Are y' done wit' me?"  
  
"For the moment yes." Essex said, and swiveled back to his computer.  
  
"Den can I leave?"  
  
Essex resisted to the urge to growl and swiveled his chair back instead, settling for a frown. "You may, go directly to your room and do not wander. I'll be watching you."  
  
Remy swallowed in fear and nodded. Who knew what Essex was capable of?  
  
Remy hopped off the table and ran down the hall before Essex could change his mind. His bare feet slapped loudly on the cold metal floor. Remy reached a fork in the hall and stopped suddenly. His breath came out in white puff in front of his face, he wondered how much it would cost for Essex to turn up the heat a little. Both directions looked unfamiliar to Remy and he briefly panicked at the thought of getting lost. He could wander around in Essex's lab for years and never be found.  
  
Remy glanced right, then left, then right again. Not able to decide which way to go he simply closed his eyes, turned, and started walking. After three or four minutes he was utterly lost.  
  
'Merde.' Remy thought, 'Now what 'm I gonna tell Essex?'  
  
"'Ello?" Remy called, hoping that someone was there who could lead him back to the safety of his cell...room...right.  
  
"Monsieur Essex? Y' dere? Somebody?" Remy was beginning to get frightened. There was no one there to show him how to get back, and he knew from experience that Essex's lab was nothing short of a labyrinth.  
  
"Hey, kid." A voice growled from one of the unrecognizable doorways, "You lost?"  
  
Remy knew that tone of voice. It meant that he would very soon be either a smear on Essex's shiny floors or a smear on this man large boots. He gulped, backing away a step as the large, hairy man grinned down at him.  
  
"A little." Remy whispered.  
  
The man chuckled a little, "To think," he said, "I spend all of yesterday with my buddy Theoren talkin' 'bout you and then you show up out of the blue. Talk about lucky."  
  
"Y' know Theoren?" Remy said, still frightened by the menacing man. 'but,' he thought, 'de homme can't be dat bad if he's friends wit' mon cousin.'  
  
"Know him?" the giant man said, "We're buds! In fact, he was asking about you just yesterday. He's real worried."  
  
"Vraiment? He said dat?"  
  
"Really kid. Why would I lie? I can take you to him too, if you want."  
  
Remy thought about that suggestion. He didn't trust the huge cat-like man, but he was a friend of the family and he could take Remy back to the only place he had ever felt wanted.  
  
"Oui!" Remy said grinning, "but not for another t'ree days. I got a deal wit Monsieur Essex."  
  
"It's a deal kid." The man said, "Ask around and you'll find me, the name Victor."  
  
"D'accorrd Victor." Remy said. He carefully tested Victor's mind with his charm power, but found nothing. It did nothing to relieve his fears but Remy had no choice but to trust the man. It seemed that Remy was often out of choices these days.  
  
Sabertooth pulled a cell phone from his pocket as he walked down the sterile walled hallways of Essex's lab. He dialed a number quickly with his long, clumsy claws, growling softly when he accidentally hit the wrong number and had to start over.  
  
"Theoren." He said smugly to the man on the other line. " I got him, I'll bring him to you in three days."  
  
"Creed," the man on the other line replied in a dry voice, "De deal was for you to kill him. Some time today."  
  
"There's been a change in plans." Sabertooth growled. "Essex wants him for another three days, and I ain't gonna be the one to kill him new playtoy before the time is up. It'll get done off Essex's property in three day or not at all."  
  
"Fine!" Theoren said, "But why should this have anything with you brining him to me?"  
  
"Because I told the boy I'd take him to you." Creed said, chuckling, "And I'd hate to disappoint him."  
  
With that Sabertooth clicked the phone shut and continued down the hall, his laughter ringing after him. 


	6. Five: Things are wrapping up

[A/N] HELLO MINIONS!! Yesss, I'm still alive and kicking! Well, alive and...umm...sleeping. Oh well. I'm really sorry for being so lazy lately, blame it on the evilness of that terrible institution known as school. On a lighter note, you all must know that I got an A on my math final! Y=mxb baby!! Thanx yo everyone who reviewed.  
  
"This procedure should be brief Remy." Essex said. Remy sat on yet another steel operating table, watching as Essex fiddled with a small object in another part of the lab. "Unfortunately, I will be unable to administer anesthesia due to the complex makeup of the device."  
  
"What?" Remy said, unable to make heads or tails of Essex's speech.  
  
"This will hurt." Essex said simply. He moved to the table and pulled a cart forward. It held some ugly-looking knives and needles as well as a small metal object that looked like it came from a star trek movie.  
  
Remy nodded, although the sharp objects frightened him, he knew that there was no other way to get control. He took a deep breath and just barely controlled the shaking of his hands.  
  
"What you gonna do?" he asked.  
  
Essex didn't answer right away; he snapped a pair of latex gloves onto his hands and cleaned the knives and the small device with alcohol before turning to Remy.  
  
"I will place this," he held up the metal device, "inside your arm. It is designed to absorb the kinetic energy you produce and make it into a less harmful product. It should not only keep you from making deadly mistakes with your power, but also increase the amount of energy you have available to your body. The only side-affect I can foresee would be insomnia. That is; you will have trouble sleeping or staying still because of the high amounts of energy."  
  
"Oh..." Remy said. He didn't fully understand, but didn't want to bother the doctor by asking questions. Remy stayed silent as Essex took his arm and cut it open with the knife. He felt tears come to his eyes and wanted to scream, but he knew that if he moved he would be in more pain.  
  
Essex pushed the device under his skin and a layer of muscle. His fingers moved deftly without pause as he pushed and probed into Remy's arm. Remy was glad, at least, that Essex had high shields that protected him from Remy's charm power. Remy had the strangest feeling that the doctor was enjoying what he was doing, and the thought alone made Remy sick.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity Essex removed his hand from the opening in Remy's arm and stitched it up. Remy closed he eyes and breathed hard as he felt the needle and thread pass through his flesh. Soon enough it was over and Essex cleaned the wound with an antibiotic solution. Remy let out a great sigh of relief.  
  
"This should keep you powers in check for a few years at least. By that time I hope you will be able to control them on your own." Essex stood and walked to his computer, the unspoken signal that Remy was dismissed.  
  
Remy stood and, rather than running which was what he wanted to do, calmly walked out of the room. It had been three days. Three long painful days and Remy was ready to go home. He turn left, in the opposite direction of his room, and turned towards the hallway he could remember meeting Victor in.  
  
Remy's footsteps echoed eerily in the long metal hall. He thought this was the way to Victor's room, but how could he tell when all the rooms looked the same? Remy desperately wished for a map of the compound.  
  
'Or maybe one of dose t'ings wit' de blinky "you are here" dots.' Remy thought.  
  
"Hey kid." A voice growled from behind him. Remy jumped nearly a foot in the air and spun around. Victor leaned against the wall, grinning.  
  
"Salut Victor." Remy said, trying not to look as scared as he was.  
  
"Lets go." Victor grabbed hold of Remy's shirt collar and dragged him down a corridor that Remy hadn't noticed before.  
  
Victor was pulling him much to fast for his short legs, but Remy didn't complain and merely let himself be pulled at any speed Victor chose.  
  
They came to a halt at what appeared to be a dead end. Remy waited, panting, as victor ran his hands up and down the black wall. His long claws came in contact with one small piece of the wall and Remy heard a loud click. The wall moved aside to reveal the high noon sun shining over Remy's beloved swamp.  
  
Remy stepped outside with joy, it was the first time he had seen the sun in over a week, but he was struck down where he stood. It was his eyes! Remy reached up to cover his eyes as pain shot through his head. It burned through his skull and along the back of his neck. After  
  
He screamed, his arms flailed around as he tried to find Victor. One hand covered his eyes in an attempt to block out the painful light.  
  
"Victor?" He whispered fearfully.  
  
Remy heard a chuckle coming from somewhere behind him, it was one of those homicidal maniac chuckles that made Remy want to run for the hills. Of course, running for the hills wouldn't work if he couldn't see where the hills were.  
  
Victor chuckled, and Remy suddenly felt as if he would jump into a volcano rather than stay another minute in Victor's company.  
  
"Looks like we have a little problem Remy." Victor's gravely voice said, from off in some direction Remy couldn't pinpoint. "You see, there's this guy who want's you dead. But I work for Mr. Sinister, that's Dr Essex to you, and he wants you alive.  
  
"So Remy, what shall I do?" Victor chuckled again and Remy felt one of his claws trail down his face. Remy's mind was racing, he put the pieces together quickly, coming up with only one frightening answer.  
  
"You gonna leave me here?"  
  
"Damn straight!" Victor cried with a laugh, "I get to tell my man your dead, and if you do die Sinister can't blame me. If you don't, well, that's not my problem."  
  
Remy wished he could see well enough to hit Victor just once. 'I never should have listened to dat fils de putain' Remy thought, 'Just shows what happens when you trust someone.'  
  
"I'll be going now kid." Victor growled. Remy felt the man's hand leave his head, but before Victor left, he grabbed a chunk of Remy's hair and ripped it out.  
  
He chuckled again as Remy gasped and reached for the bloody spot on his head, "Proof, you know, of your death." He told the boy with a grin before trotting into the swamp.  
  
"Merde." Remy muttered. He sat down on the ground, there was no use in trying top get home. Without his eyes Remy would fall into the swamp and drown in no time. He rested his head in his hands and rubbed his still screaming temples. "Merde."  
  
Theoren Leboulanger sat in the Café du Sang when Victor entered. The hulking man did not even try to be discreet, he simply walked up to Theoren and threw something on the table in front of him. Theoren picked it up and examined it. It was a small lock of reddish-brown hair and it was tacky with quickly drying blood.  
  
"Good job Sabertooth. I was worried f'r a minute dere dat you were gonna bring him to me alive." He laughed a little as he reached into his coat for Sabertooth's payment.  
  
"I was," Sabertooth replied, "But I had a better idea."  
  
Theoren chuckled and handed the ruby to Sabertooth before draining the last of his coffee and walking to the door.  
  
"Well, either way, good job." Theoren said as he left. Sabertooth had not listened however, he was too busy watching the play of light across the Ruby.  
  
TRANSLATIONS:  
  
Salut= hi (it can also be bye) Fils de Putain= Son of a Whore/Bitch Merde= shit  
  
So that's it! YAY!! There will probably only be one or two more chapters for this. That's right its almost done. Once again I am SO SORRY for not posting often enough, I have lots of excuses but it all adds up to I'm REALLY LAZY!! So, if you want me to keep going, bug me....a lot...yeah  
  
All of those who review shall receive a complementary invisible cookie. 


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